Revelations
by Lexosaurus
Summary: Human AU: Jack is requested to help out for a Christmas benefit and because he really needs community service for his college apps, Jack reluctantly agrees. Will Jack get close with his new group or will he fall to Pitch's seemingly-friendly charm? More importantly, will his friends find out Jack's terrible secret? WARNING: ABUSE, SELF-HARM, SUICIDE ATTEMPT
1. Chapter 1: Unseen

**I'm just going to be totally honest and say that I've never written accents before. Just use your imagination or something when reading for me, ok? Thanks.**

**Disclaimer****: I'm not cool enough to own ROTG or any characters associated with it.**

Jack slipped past the groups of students clogging up the hallway and into the building. He tugged on his blue hoodie to make sure the hood was still completely covering his messy white hair. He didn't want people recognizing him just yet. He wanted a few moments where he could pretend he was just like everyone else.

"Move it, Frost!" one of Jack's least favorite people shoved him out of the way, causing books to tumble out of his arms.

_So much for blending in, _he thought with a grimace and bent down to pick them up. "Sorry."

"Yeah, you'd better be. You were takin' up the whole goddamn hallway!" the boy exclaimed. He had dull brown hair and tan skin with toned muscles. He was tall, probably a little over 6 feet, and wore a gray t-shirt and black pants with gray and white shoes. His name was Aster and he and Jack had hated each other since they were kids. The only problem was that Aster was popular and had social support while Jack on the other hand...well...he had no one.

No one ever talked to Jack. The few times he went to lunch instead of camping out in the library he was completely alone at a table. He did all his work alone in class also. When the teacher would assign him to partner up with someone, 95% of the time proceeding the arrangement the kid would turn to his/her friends and go "Ugh, I got Frost. Shoot me." At first this bothered Jack, but now he just learned to live with it. Between his home life and his school life, he was used to all the hate.

"Sorry," Jack reiterated.

"Did I say you could keep talking to me?"

Jack bit his lip and tugged his hood to make sure it was secure over his head.

"Better, Frost. Let's keep it that way." Aster stormed off.

Jack let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and slowly made his way to his locker. He tried to attract as little attention as possible. He didn't want another run-in like the one with Aster.

Little did Jack know he never succeeded in attracting zero attention, for a shadowy black figure was watching him.

LINEBREAK

"Open your books to page 94, please," his math teacher droned to the class. Although Jack was pretty good at math, he hated it. Jack suspected the only reason he understood math was because he never did anything other than study. Sure it was a sad life, but he was used to it. He didn't know any different.

Jack opened his books and stared at the numbers. He _really _didn't feel like doing math that second. Maybe he could just get up to go to the bathroom for a minute...

_NO! _he panicked. He couldn't leave class. What if he missed something important? His dad would be furious! The last thing Jack wanted to do was make his dad hate him more than he already did.

So he stayed in class and did his work like the studious boy his dad wanted him to be. At least, that's what Jack thought his dad wanted him to be. He could never really tell with that man.

"Jack," hissed someone. Jack ignored him. Whoever it was, they wouldn't be talking to Jack unless it was something hurtful.

"_Jack,_" the voice insisted as the mystery person tapped him on the shoulder.

"What?" Jack turned around. Sitting there was a new student from England. He was tall with grayish skin, black hair, black eyes, and a bony structure with high cheekbones.

"What did you get for number seven?" the British boy asked.

Jack froze, confused. Who was this kid and why was he talking to him? He was Jack freaking Frost. No one wanted to be caught dead having a nonchalant conversation with _him_.

"Uh, you there? Helloooo?"

"Oh uh right. Number 7 number7number7number7..." Jack muttered under his breath as he searched his paper for the answer. When he found it he turned back around to face the other boy. "I got three pi over four."

"Oh well this is comforting then. I must be doing _something _right. Thank you Jack," the other boy gave a slight nod to him and a smile.

"Um, thanks," Jack blinked, still confused.

"Jack," the boy gasped, peeking over Jack's shoulder and at his paper. "My, you are quite the mathematician. You're already on problem number twelve!"

"Oh, uh, thanks?" Jack ran his hand through his hair nervously. The British boy spoke in such a meticulous manor that it was almost condescending. It reminded him a bit of his father when Jack was little.

"Tell me, how do you do it?"

"I think I've just had a lot of practice and time." Jack stared hard at his desk.

"Oh, time? Hmm, is it because no one wants to hang out with you?"

_Well that was blunt. _"I dunno, maybe?"

The British boy patted Jack's shoulder. "It's alright, Jack. _I _understand. You and I should hang out some time then."

Jack's eyes grew wide. Someone liked him? What, how? Jack opened his mouth to say yes when suddenly the loudspeaker came on. "_Would Nicholas St. North, Aster Bunnymund, Toothiana Dentem, Sanderson Mansnoozie, and Jack Frost please report to Mr. Lunar's office."_

"Why did they call you down with those weirdos?" the British boy questioned. "I didn't know you all were so chummy."

"We're not," he replied quietly.

"Oh well then perhaps we can continue this conversation another time, Jack." Pitch gave Jack a small smile and looked down at his math paper. "Have fun."

LINEBREAK

"Uh, hello?" Jack pushed the heavy door to Mr. Lunar's office open. He was the last one there, of course.

Mr. Lunar stood up, his face brimming with happiness. He wore a silver-blue sweater with khakis and black shoes. He was older, maybe in his mid-60's. His hair was gray and neatly brushed in a side-part. His eyes were wrinkled from many years of smiling. Yet, he still carried an aura of authority and wisdom with him that made him intimidatingly respectable.

"Welcome, Jack, let's get started," he stood. Jack noticed the tight clique of teens shooting him weird looks. Mr. Lunar just continued, "So the holidays are coming up and once again, the school has called upon you guys to hold the Christmas benefit this year."

"Right, uh, what's _he _doing here?" Aster was the first to speak up. He motioned to Jack.

"Jack will be your newest addition," Mr. Lunar put his hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack gave an involuntary flinch. Thankfully, Mr. Lunar either didn't notice or pretended not to.

"Waitwaitwait, back up," Aster stepped towards Jack and Mr. Lunar. All Jack wanted to do was disappear.

Aster glared hard at Jack and continued, "You mean to tell me that even though the four of us have handled the Christmas benefit just fine for the kids every year on our own, you want to add to our already-established team? And not just anyone, but _Jack Frost?_"

"Bunny!" Toothiana elbowed Aster in the ribs. "What he means to say is of course we'll be more than happy to take in another to our group!"

"Ah, yes, the more the merrier, correct?" Nicholas agreed.

Sanderson just nodded.

Aster sighed and face-palmed. "Can you at least tell us _why _we're not sufficient enough on our own?"

"It's not that I don't think you guys are fine the way you are because, believe me, you hold outstanding benefits each year. Truly, they are amazing. A work of art-"

"Then why do we need Frost?" Aster growled. "If they're as good as you say they are then we don't need him."

"Bunny stop it!" Toothiana muttered sharply just out of earshot to Mr. Lunar.

"I just think you guys could use another team member," Mr. Lunar explained. "A new perspective, a new point of view, a new opinion! I want this year to be spectacular and I know Mr. Frost can really help come up with new creative ideas."

"Really?" Aster deadpanned. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Jack Frost here?"

_Why is it like I'm never in the room?_

"Aster," Mr. Lunar sighed. "Just give Jack a chance."

"Fine, whatever." Aster surrendered.

"Jack, would you be willing to participate in this?" Mr. Lunar finally asked.

Jack stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets and glared at the ground. It didn't sound like anyone wanted him to be a part of this but this would probably _really _look good on those college applications that would hopefully lead to some type of scholarship since he couldn't afford tuition and he certainly wasn't going to ask his father for money. He closed his eyes. He really didn't want to help them. They didn't seem to need or want him. But Jack really needed to do this. He had to say yes.

"Sure, I'm in. When do we start?"

* * *

**I'm so tired right now. I've been listening to the same song on loop for like the past five hours. *sigh* I should really get to bed.**

**Well this was my first ROTG fanfiction. It's probably caked with grammatical errors and stuff because I am beyond exhausted so I really should wait to post this tomorrow but nah. **


	2. Chapter 2: Disappear

**Hey guys so if you didn't notice, the warnings have changed! I'd forgotten to put the last two when I first made the story (oops). Even so, I don't feel that comfortable/confident in my writing of self-harm and stuff so whenever Jack does it, I won't go into detail. Hopefully all this doesn't change your view on the story in a negative way but if it IS a disappointment, I'm so sorry!**

It was raining when Jack walked home that afternoon from school. To make matters even worse, his father's car was in the driveway, signaling that he was home. Jack's stomach clenched into a knot as he slowly opened the door and slipped silently into the house. Thankfully, his father was passed out on an armchair in their living room, beer bottle still in hand.

Jack lived in a relatively small house consisting of three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a living room. Jack slept in one of the tiny two upstairs bedrooms while his father occupied a bedroom on the ground floor. Their living room held nothing more than a small, stained, oval shaped blue rug, a fireplace, a lamp, an armchair, and a television. Their kitchen was smaller and tiled and held the standard equipment necessary for cooking and eating.

The whole house reeked of alcohol and smoke. No matter how hard he tried, Jack could never get the scent out of his clothes. It served as a constant reminder to how messed up his life was and how there was no way out.

Jack began tiptoeing up the old wooden stairs when, in that unlucky moment, his phone beeped. Jack froze. He never got text messages. Why now?

Jack, apparently, wasn't the only person who heard the phone beep. His father, who could sleep through the apocalypse when he was passed out, groaned and stretched.

Jack tried to run but his legs were frozen to the ground. His father's eyes surveyed his surroundings until they landed on Jack, causing him to panic further.

"Wazat you?" His father slurred.

"I-I'm so sorry," Jack mumbled quietly.

"Whut?" his father's eyes narrowed. "A man can't even git a goods sleep round here widout bein waked up by ur stupid self an then u can't even speak to me when I ask you fer it?"

"I-I-I-" Jack's voice faltered.

Jack's father angrily pulled himself from his chair and stumbled towards Jack. "I had enough of ur pathetic whinin' and bitchin'. Get over here."

Jack froze. On one hand if he were to go over to his father he would be beaten senselessly. On the other hand, if he ran away, his father would only be more angry.

"Waza matter wid u?" his father drunkenly said. "Get ur ass over here!"

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his hands over his ears. He tried to block out the sounds of his father noisily stumbling over. He tried, he really did, but when a slimy hand wrapped around his neck Jack knew he would never really be able to block out his father.

A second hand grabbed Jack's hair. Both of them together pushed Jack painfully against the wall. The hand around Jack's neck tightened until he was gasping for air.

"You see whut u do ta me, boy? You jus' keep on makin' me mad. Now u dun like it when im mad do ya?" Jack's dad growled.

Jack shook his head frantically, unable to speak. Well at least he tried to shake his head. His father's grip was incredibly strong for a drunk man. As nauseating as it was, Jack's father had years of practice with this.

Jack's father threw him on the ground where he lay gasping for air. He wasted no time his his ritualistic abuse by repeatedly slamming his boot into Jack's malnourished waist.

Tears slid, unnoticed by his father, down Jack's cheek. He squeezed his eyes shut again. His phone wasn't supposed to beep. He didn't have any friends. It was his fault that someone felt the need to contact him today. He was supposed to be invisible. It was his fault.

Then, without warning, a boot felt its way to Jack's skull and everything turned black.

LINEBREAK

Jack sat in his room staring at the unforgiving text message on his old cell phone.

_It's Aster. First meeting's tomorrow after school. Meet us at Nick's car._

Jack, of course, had no idea where Nick parked his car, but he could hardly bring himself to care. Instead, he slipped his hand under his thin mattress and felt for a plastic bag. When he found it he took it from under the mattress and placed it carefully on the floor.

Jack sat down, crosslegged, and delicately opened the bag. Under a wad of tissues was his only prized possession. It was shiny. It was dangerous. It was a razor.

Jack couldn't remember ever beginning cutting. It just happened. Overtime Jack found he was truly unable to handle the stress all bottled up inside him. He had no one. That was a fact. No one would care enough to help Jack if he tried to reach out for it. He was Jack freaking Frost; he was nobody.

Jack liked these moments best, or the ones when he was able to slip away from reality with the simple slicing of his skin. He did it after every beating or failure or mean word directed his way. No one had to know what was going on, both inside Jack and between him and his father. Jack intended to keep it that way.

LINEBREAK

The only place Jack found at peace was art class. He didn't think he was any good at art but he still loved it all the same.

Aster was in his class but Jack never sat near him. Jack sat in the back corner of the room completely alone. No one sat near him or bothered him. Jack liked it best that way. Of course, he didn't really know anything different other than social interaction usually resulted in his humiliation.

For some reason Jack found it particularly difficult to concentrate on anything today, even his artwork. Jack couldn't figure out if it was a throbbing pain in his ribs, his nerves in what lay waiting for him after school with the gang, or a combination of both. Jack figured it might be the combination.

"Five minutes left!" his chipper art teacher called. That signaled clean up time.

Jack went over to the sink to dump the water for his paints. Aster happened to reach the sink at the same time as him and accidentally elbowed Jack in the ribs.

Jack hastily threw his cup of water in the sink and clamped his hands down on his side.

"Hey, what the hell?" Paint-tinted water had splashed on Aster.

"Sorry," coughed Jack.

"Not everyone needs more color on their skin, albino freak!" Aster moodily stormed off back to his seat.

Jack slowed his breathing until it was no longer bothering his bruised ribs before also returning to his seat to wait for the bell to ring.

Jack put his head down on his desk and closed his eyes. Sometimes he thought life would be better without him. His dad might smile for once and Aster sure would be happy. The students wouldn't have to take the effort to shove him out of their way to get by him because he wouldn't be there to block their paths. Life would be easier for everyone if he was gone.

Sometimes he wished he could just disappear.

* * *

**As usual, PLEASE tell me if there's any spelling/grammar errors. Also, enjoy!**

**Reviews:**

**thejellyfish99: Thank you! I'm glad you like it so far!**

**EmotionalDreamer101: Thank you lots! I can't wait to write what happens! I actually was debating for a while of how I'd get them all in one place but I'm glad you like the loudspeaker thing.**


	3. Chapter 3: Day 1

**So I was going to put this story on hold until I finished my Danny Phantom/Teen Titans crossover, but you people are **_**so **_**awesome that I've decided to scratch that idea. I will update this story quite infrequently compared to my main one but hey, it's better than abandonment!**

Jack stumbled out of the school that day midst the sea of other high schoolers, all laughing and joking around with their friends. Jack, on the other hand, walked slowly out of the building alone and with his blue hoodie covering his hair and eyes. No one joked and laughed with him. In fact, no one even saw him as they pushed on by, all eager to get home.

Jack, after so many years of being invisible, just quietly moved off to the side of the crowd and pulled out his beat-up cell phone. There was a new text from Aster.

_Where are you? We're not gonna wait around here all day!_

Jack hesitated before replying. The only person who ever texted him was his boss. How was he supposed to react to someone his own age trying to contact him?

So, Jack took the safe route by replying with a simple: _Outside. _

_Well? Tick tock, you bloody show pony. Get over here before we decide to leave._

Jack nervously glanced up and, to his immense relief, did not happen to see a car speeding off of school property as fast as possible. Jack quickly replied to Aster with a, _I can't find his car. _

_It's a huge red minivan, _was the reply. _You'd have to be a complete moron to miss it. _

After a minute of searching, Jack _did _happen to find the huge, old but functional car Bunny was talking about. He let out a sigh of relief to find everyone, even Aster, in the car waiting for him. He shyly walked up to them and waved a small greeting wave, too nervous to speak in front of them. He held his breath as he waited for a reaction. Were they gonna slam the car door in his face a speed off? Or would they beat him up, and _then _slam the car door closed and speed off?

To his complete and utter shock, Toothiana squealed with delight and said, "Oh yay, Jack's here! Come in, Jack!"

Jack hesitantly climbed in the van, ignoring Aster's mutterings of, "Took you long enough, Frostbite," and headed to the very back of the large car.

"Sorry," Jack apologized quickly before slyly added in, "Kangaroo."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What did you just call me?" Aster turned around to face Jack, his face bright red.

"Calm yourself, Bunny." North rolled his eyes. "Ve have places to be, things to do!"

"I am NOT a Kangaroo!" Aster sputtered.

"Wait, did you just call him Bunny?" Jack giggled.

"His mom thought he looked like a bunny when he was little," Tooth explained. "It just kinda stuck."

"Whatever." Bunny huffed and crossed his arms.

Jack nodded and stared out the window. Everyone's lives seemed so perfect. The gang of these four do-gooders seemed so content and happy. Jack wished he could be them, or at least feel like them. Jack clenched his teeth as he realized he would really just rather to be anyone but himself.

LINEBREAK

"Jack, aren't you hot in that thing? It's like a million degrees in here!" Aster fanned himself.

"Oh shush, you. It's not even that hot in here!" Toothiana defended he slightly-warmer-than-average basement.

"Yeah, I'm with Toothiana on this one." Jack nervously agreed. Truthfully he couldn't take off his blue hoodie because that would mean he would be revealing everything _under _the hoodie. Everyone would see all his bruises and scars, both from his father and himself.

"Oh, sweet tooth, just call me Ana!" Ana laughed.

Jack nodded as someone's phone buzzed. Jack didn't pay much attention to the noise, for it was most likely one of the other's phones. No, not most likely; it _definitely _was one of the other's phones. Instead, Jack surveyed the room around him. They were in Nick's basement, which was apparently where the gang did the majority of their work. It was a fairly large room with dull green carpeting. They were surrounded by shelves full of an assortment of items ranging from wooden toys to power tools.

"Jack, it's yours," Nick handed Jack his cell phone.

Baffled, Jack carefully studied the caller I.D. which consequently made him nauseous. Printed in clear, white lettering was BRUCE FROST. Lightheaded, Jack answered the phone with a stuttering "H-hello?"

"Where the fuck are you?" His father shouted into the receiver.

Jack's reply was short, panicked, and to the point. "At a friend's house."

"Don't make me laugh, boy." he barked. "You better be home in time to cook me dinner or else you better look for a soft patch of grass to sleep on 'cause I aint letting you back in the house. Also, get more beer on the way home. We're out."

Jack clenched his teeth and said softly into the phone, "Okay and I can't do that last part."

"Why not, you fucking useless piece of human shit?"

"It's...it's not...well...legal?"

"Do I have to do everything around here? I don't even know why I bother keeping you around, boy! You're as useful as horse shit! Horse shit, I tell ya! Why, when I get my hands on your neck I'm gonna squeeze it so fucking hard you'll wish you were never born!" His father hung up the phone on that positive note and Jack winced as he pictured the bright red fury that dressed his father's face. Jack, of all people, knew how his father got when the alcohol was out of his system.

"Who was that?" Ana nonchalantly questioned.

"My f-father," Jack nearly choked on those words. "He was just wondering where I was. He forgot that I was coming here today. Haha, you know how parents get with their busy work schedules and such!"

"Jack?" Aster raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes?"

"Stop talking."

Jack nodded and pretended to be interested in a crack in the cream colored walls. Unfortunately, Aster wasn't finished. "Just because Mr. Moon said you could be on this team doesn't mean we're just gonna let you on this team. The four of us, we each have routine jobs at this point for this Christmas benefit, and I'm _not _letting you just waltz on in and screw it up!"

"Bunny!" Ana snapped. "That's enough! Jack's one of us now."

"Jack's a lot of things, but one of us? Not a chance." Aster glared at Jack.

LINEBREAK

Jack was doing homework in his room that night. Thankfully, when he came home, his father was out. For once, Jack was relieved he was out getting drunk. His father sounded quite pissed over the phone, and a confrontation after yesterday's beatings was the last thing Jack wanted at the moment. Or, ever. And though Jack had immediately prepared a delicious microwave-oven meal like his father had so graciously asked for, it was still sitting on the counter where he'd left it.

Jack sighed and put down his pencil. All this trig was making his head swim. He just needed a moment of fresh air away from the Asters and Bruce's of the world. He slid his window open and climbed onto the roof. It wasn't uncommon for him to be out here. In fact, the roof had a sort of hypnotizing calming effect on Jack that just made him want to come back outside again and again.

However, Jack wasn't just looking for an emotional "quick fix" so he climbed down from a tree that had grown over their roof and ran off into the woods. About a quarter-mile was a pond that he would sit by at least three times a week. It reminded him of when he was younger and he father would take him ice-skating instead of beating him up. Jack wished he could go back to those times with all of his heart. He hated being hated by his father, and worst of all he hated being hated by himself.

He'd made a rule at the pond: he wasn't allowed to cut himself there. He'd bring a razor sometimes on really bad days, and once he even let the shiny piece of metal touch his arm, but he had never broken his one and only rule before. The pond was a happy place, not a place to think about things that made him miserable.

Jack hugged his thin knees and stared out into the dark sky. The stars were awfully bright that night and they lit up the sky like Christmas lights with the full moon acting like the star ontop of the tree. The light from the moon shone down on the water, penetrating any darkness in its path and leaving a stream of silver light.

Jack reached out a thin hand towards the moon, wanting so badly to reach out and grab the light from the sky to keep to himself. But, upon realizing the impossibility of those action, he let his hand hand limply by his side.

Jack stood up and trudged on back home, turning his back on the light of the moon and stars as he stepped into the foreboding forest. He couldn't stay at the pond forever; he had to finish that trig homework. Not to mention he had to be home in case his father needed him for anything.

LINEBREAK

Jack checked his phone to see a text from Aster: _Come to Nick's van again tomorrow after school. We're meeting again.__  
_

Jack didn't even both replying as he turned off the old, glitchy cell phone and attempted to go to sleep. Except, Jack couldn't sleep. He could never sleep and when he tried, he'd just be woken awake by nightmares a few hours later. In fact, Jack hadn't had a full night's sleep since the day his father first laid a hand on him.

* * *

**Yayyyy we're back! **

**Reviews:**

**thejellyfish99: Thank you!**

**Scavenger'sDaughter2: Yeah there's a lot of human high school au stories, but I can definitely see the similarities between the two. Thankfully, this is going to have a pretty solidly different plotline than that story so hopefully it doesn't seem like I'm copying that author or anything because I'm really not.**

**The Real Mystery Writer: Okay!**

**katdrew: Yes sir! Or ma'am. Or...you know what it doesn't matter. YES, I SHALL CONTINUE!**

**KodiakWolfe13: Heyyyy! Glad to see you on another fanfic thingy! And yess I know that song. I guess it could very well fit here. And I know that Glee song too. Wait, don't do what? Ahhhhh ANYWAYS HI, FRIEND. ENJOY THIS CHAPTER.**


	4. Chapter 4: Team Bonding

**Hey guys! For those of you who don't read my main story (New Beginnings) I got a concussion. I've been feeling loads better lately and I actually was able to post a half-finished chapter to New Beginnings last Thursday. So today I was feeling really good and decided to finish this chapter and post it because I feel bad when I don't give you guys stuff to read.**

It was Jack's study period. Only upperclassmen got study hall, and Jack didn't even realize how much he needed it until he opted for one this year. Some people didn't use the study hall and instead took an elective course, such as international foods or film theory. They also could catch up on a course they'd missed if they went to a private school for a year or something. Therefore, Jack's study hall class was small. There was eleven of them to be exact, and they occupied a small room filled with a few large tables instead of desks.

Jack liked study hall. No one ever sat near him which meant he got an entire table to himself. No bullies were in this class, as they all opted to take an elective gym course. They only were required to take gym for the first two years of high school, but some students chose to take the elective class their Junior and/or Senior year. Jack didn't see why someone would want to do that, but he didn't question it.

Jack viewed his study hall like a little save haven, or "the cove" as he'd named it. He could take one, forty minute break in his 24 hour day where he didn't need to worry about his dad or Aster or anyone else that hated him. He could just do schoolwork to boost his grades to help him get a scholarship he so desperately needed for college.

Only, Jack didn't have that luxury today. Nick was in his class and, to Jack's confusion, he decided to switch tables and sit across from Jack at his table.

"Hello, Jack." Nick said.

Jack stiffened.

"How are you today?" Nick threw open a notebook.

"Fine." Jack answered shortly, not even glancing up from his homework.

"Good, good!" Nick said enthusiastically. "What homework is that?"

Jack could tell Nick was trying to make the effort in this conversation. The problem was, Jack didn't want to return the favor. Jack was perfectly content with this area being the one place he could just do his schoolwork in peace. "English."

"Ahh, yes! You are in honors, da?" Nick asked.

"Yes."

"English is hard. If it wasn't for Aster, I would not have passed last year." He laughed. He had a loud laugh. It matched his loud voice. Jack winced. His father had a loud laugh and voice.

Jack didn't like loud things.

"Oh."

"This year I do better, though, even if I still need Aster's help from time to time."

"Cool."

"Indeed!" he exclaimed happily, not even caring that Jack was half-assing this conversation. "Are you looking forward to our meeting today?"

Jack shrugged. He felt like he'd maxed out on his speaking limit for one period. He didn't care if clamping up killed his chances of making a friend. Making friends wasn't going to get him into college anyways, nor would it make his father _not _look at him as if he were a patch of mold on a piece of fruit.

"I hear Ana called it. Normally we meet every other day so this is unusual, yes? But I think she has something special planned. As long as I get cookie, I'm content." He laughed again.

Jack closed his eyes and tried to block out the loud laugh. It hurt his ears. Unfortunately, shutting his eyes didn't do anything to the noise. Jack abruptly stood, muttering something about the bathroom, and briskly walked out of the study hall room. He hurried down the hallway and nearly ran into the bathroom, gasping for air. Thankfully the bathroom was vacant, allowing Jack to hyperventilate in peace.

He gripped the edge of the old, dirty sink and stared hard at the drain. This was his mechanism for his frequent anxiety attacks: focus on something that's tangible so he can't confuse his thoughts with reality. The only downside was that his flashbacks were so real that sometimes he felt a sting on his cheek when his father hitting him popped into his brain.

"Nonononono," Jack gripped his hair furiously. His hands were shaking and he felt numb. _Calm down. He's not here. He's at the house. _

Jack groaned and told his flashbacks and screaming brain to "shut up." But that didn't work either. He still saw his father with his 3am unshaven look and dark brown, short and slightly curly hair on top of his head. He still could smell his father's alcohol as it dripped all over the floor, staining the wood with its pollutant.

Jack reached his hand into his pocket and brought out a neatly folded tissue. He rushed into a stall, slammed the door shut, and fumbled with the lock until he was sure it was secure before opening the tissue. Inside was a gleaming silver blade.

Jack had made a rule against cutting in school. He broke that rule minutes after he'd made it. After the fact, he adjusted the rule so he only would cut in an emergency situation. Jack considered this an emergency situation.

And so, Jack brought the glittering blade down on his skin, pressed, and sliced. Just like that, all his worries seemed to melt away.

LINEBREAK

Ana had them all sitting in a circle. Jack was surprised she was even able to be seated with them since she looked about ready to launch herself into the sky with excitement.

Aster exchanged amused glances with Sandy as he said, "Yeah, Tooth?"

Jack learned yesterday that her gang of friends called her "Tooth" because of her obsession with teeth.

Ana spoke in a fast voice that seemed to climb higher and higher with each word, "So since yesterday we were planning and starting up everything and reorganizing, I thought it would be fun if we did some team bonding exercise so we could get to know each other. Doesn't that sound fun?"

Aster rolled his eyes. "I've known you since I was seven, Tooth. I think we know pretty much everything about each other."

"Wa abu' Jak?" a muffled Russian accent asked. Jack turned around to see him stuffing his face with Ana's mom's homemade cookies.

"So? What about him?" Aster asked crossly.

_We don't know anything about him, _Sandy signed. Thankfully, one of Jack's younger sister's friends was deaf. Before the accident, he would see her a lot. Jack was surprised at how much sign language he'd retained throughout these long years since his sister left him.

"Yeah? Doesn't mean we need to relearn everything about each other just because we have a newbie." Aster folded his arms.

"Oh, don't be such a debbie downer, Aster! Who knows, there could be stuff on all of us that we never knew about each other. C'mon, this'll be fun!" she giggled.

Aster huffed. "Fine."

"Awesome!" Tooth sat a little straighter. "Now, let's all go around the circle and someone will ask you a question. You have to answer it truthfully! I'll start. Sandy, do you have a hidden talent?"

"He definitely does." Aster grinned, warming up to this idea.

Sandy shrugged. _My uncle taught me how to fly his airplane if that counts._

"Vat? And you never told us?" Nick stared at him incredulously.

Sandy shrugged.

"That's so cool!" Tooth squealed. "Okay now Sandy, you ask Aster something."

Sandy thought for a moment. _What's your favorite school subject besides art?_

"Oh, good one!" Ana said. Aster was one of, if not _the, _best artists in the school. Besides art, Jack realized, he really didn't know what else this kid was good at.

"Uh, probably science. I like earth science a lot." Aster answered simply.

"Now you ask Jack something," Nick said eagerly.

Aster turned to Jack, followed by everyone else in the team. They were silent for a minute and Jack felt himself wanting to do nothing more than run away.

"Hmm..." Aster tapped his chin lightly with his tan finger. "Jack, why do you want to do this so badly?"

"College apps," Jack answered in a small voice. "I need a scholarship."

"Why?" Nick questioned. Jack internally groaned. Nick came from a wealthy family, so it would be fitting that he would be the one to question Jack on his dire need for money.

"I can't afford it?" Jack said. It was a fact phrased like a question. Jack had to mentally slap himself for doing that. It made the topic sound open-ended and unfinished. That just invited more questions to follow.

"There is always student loans," Nick said.

"I still would rather the scholarship. I don't want to be drowning in student loan debt."

"Just ask your parents to help then," Aster said. "At least until you can pay them back."

Jack nervously rubbed his sore arm. He could have denied that his family had the ability to be there for him, and spilled the truth about his father's employment position, but he didn't. Instead, Jack just muttered, "Okay."

"I mean they're your kid so they're going to want to support you no matter what. They'll understand if you need a bit of financial help. All you godda do is ask," Aster finished.

Jack wanted to scream.

"Wow, Aster, I'm so proud of you for being civil for an entire conversation!" Ana exclaimed. Everyone laughed. That is, everyone except for Jack, but no one paid him any mind anyways.

Aster waved them off with a, "Oh laugh it up!"

They continued with the game until they felt satisfied they knew enough about Jack, even though Jack hardly said anything after that point. After Tooth kicked them out of her house so she could study, Jack slowly trudged home in the rain. Nick had offered to drive him home, but Jack insisted that he didn't live far and he would be fine. In truth, Jack lived a half-hour's walk from Tooth's house, but he didn't want to be a burden on the gracious teen. Nick was too good for Jack and Jack knew it.

Jack saw his father's car wasn't in the driveway, so he had no problem with entering the house soaked to the bone with icy cold rainwater splashing over the surface of their wooden floors.

Jack popped some microwavable dish in the microwave for his dad, grabbed a handful of crackers for himself, and stomped on upstairs where he changed out of his dripping clothes. Jack laid down on his small bed and stared up at the ceiling. He really didn't feel like doing homework, and the rainwater had just made the fresh wounds on his arm sting. The stinging in his arms only reminded him how much he screwed up today, and in life in general.

And then another cycle of self-loathing began. Sometimes, Jack wondered if it would ever end.

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**I hope you enjoyed that! **

**Reviews:**

**thejellyfish99: Aww thanks!**

**Treehugeer: I plan on it. Also thank you.**

**KodiakWolfe13: Haha I'm glad you like this a lot. It makes me happy to see my stories have potential. Omg connections are the best. That's how people get jobs. (or at least that's how me, my brother, my mom, and my sister got jobs. My dad got one because he's just a really good persuading people person who happens to be a genius who's good at everything he does.) Haha ok I won't do _it. _So yeah. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you on New Beginnings! (hinthint that's my next update)**

**BloodBlossom88: Ikr poor Jack and THANK YOU!**


	5. Chapter 5: The Exchange

**Soooo I had a horrible case of writer's block and I am so sorry. But I think it's over now so yay.**

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Jack nonchalantly wiped down tables, as he currently had nothing else to do. It was a slow day at Windy's Pizza Shop, but he didn't mind. He had a bit of an "argument" with his father the night before and therefore didn't get any sleep due to his possibly cracked rib. He found it painful to breath. Not to mention the plethora of other injuries from his dad which left him in a situation where, no matter how hard Jack tried, he couldn't get into a comfortable sleeping position.

The entrance door jingled as some hungry customer pushed it open, immediately followed by cheery voices and sprightly giggles. Jack winced at the loud voices but smoothly glided over to his place behind the counter as if nothing was happening. He worked the cash register normally, but helped out with various other odd jobs if no one was around.

"Hey is that...Jack?" an awfully recognizable voice appeared.

Jack blinked and stared up at Aster, inwardly cringing at how messed up he must have looked. It was Monday, the slowest day of the week, so Jack hadn't bothered to look very presentable for this. In school, at least, he was able to turn invisible, so it didn't matter if he walked in that morning with dark circles under his blue eyes or his hair uncombed. He just hid under his hood anyways. But at work he had to face actual, judgmental people. Even on slow days he risked running into someone he knew.

Jack took a deep, shaking breath and started his rehearsed lines. "Welcome to Windy's. May I take your or-"

"What are you doing here?" Aster cut in.

Jack gestured down to his red, short sleeved shirt with his presentable arm, making sure the other one was glued to his side. "I work here but I could ask you the same question."

He _really _wished his uniform wasn't short sleeved. It just showed everything Jack had been trying to hide. He was extremely careful, though, and none of his coworkers had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Although, if anyone ever had noticed his steady stream of bruises or the cuts on this arm, they hadn't said anything.

"My mom has a late night at work today so I'm taking Pippa here out to get pizza," he smiled down at a little girl standing beside him. She was young, probably around eight, with thin, light brown hair that cupped the edges of her face. She wore a green sweater with blue jeans and what appeared to be some sort of trademark tan beanie hat. Jack grinned. He would never understand why girls needed to have some sort of signature item, whether it be a necklace or perfume. He guessed eight year olds were no exception.

"Anyways, what happened to you?" Aster asked, looking at Jack.

Jack's eyes widened. He'd completely forgotten about how he looked for a second and mentally slapped himself for not at least combing his hair. Finally he spluttered out, "I-I...fell."

"You gave yourself a black eye and a bruised neck by falling?" Aster surveyed him over.

Jack wished he could curl up and cry. Clearly, Aster wasn't falling for this story.

"I hit the corner of a table on the way down," Jack said quickly. "Anyways, how _else _do you think I got hurt?"

Aster shrugged and glanced up at the menu. "Can we get a small cheese pizza?"

Jack nodded and rung up their order. He, for once, was glad no one really cared about him. He could get discovered quite quickly if someone actually took the time to _really _look at him. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, actually." Aster turned to Pippa and asked gently, "Pick out something to drink from that cooler," he nodded to the one against the wall next to them. "Can you get me a coke?"

Pippa nodded obediently and went to go get her drink. Meanwhile, an awkward silence was brewing up at the register.

"So…" Aster fiddled with his wallet. "We were thinking of having another meeting tomorrow. Apparently North has some ideas he wants to talk to us about."

"Okay."

"Yeah. So expect a text later about that."

"Sure."

"I mean, like, a text from me. Not North. He's gonna forget you don't have an iPhone like the rest of us. We've been communicating through a group text but I've just been texting you separately."

That shouldn't have bothered Jack, but for some reason it did. It was just one more thing to remind him that he could never be a part of their group. But he forced a smile and said a polite, "Thanks."

Fortunately, before Jack could inadvertently feel more alienated, Pippa came back with their drinks. Jack plugged the two drinks into the register, "Your total is ten dollars and forty cents."

After Jack gave them their change to the twenty he'd been handed, he forced one last smile on his face and said, "Thank you and enjoy!"

Aster just grimaced, muttered something Jack couldn't hear, and claimed a table to sit at as he and his sister waited for their pizza.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn't wait for his shift to be over.

LINEBREAK

Jack was walking home after his shift that night. He was back in his tattered blue hoodie and was kicking a rock down the pavement. His shift went longer than expected so he was walking home in the dark. There was an issue with their freezer and Jack ended up having to stay longer than expected as his manager frantically ran around trying to get the situation under control. Jack closed his eyes. His father hated it when Jack was late home. He already got beaten up yesterday. He really didn't want to get beat up today too.

Suddenly, Jack heard voices coming from an alley around the corner from where Jack was standing. Jack stiffened, debating whether or not he should check it out, before curiosity got the best of him. He slowly made his way over to the corner of the alley where he peered over.

It took Jack everything in his power not to scream at what he saw.

Pitch was handing Jack's father, in all his disheveled glory, a bag of white powder as he ordered, "Remember the routine: sell these and then come straight back to me with the cash for your reward. If you run off with the cash then I'll find you and blow your fucking brains out. Trust me, I _will _find you."

Bruce waved it off. "Yeah, yeah. I got it. Now gimmie the rest of the week an' you'll have your money."

"Good," Pitch said quickly before adding in, "You have 'till midnight on Friday."

Jack ran. The meeting between the two looked to be about over, and quite frankly Jack didn't want to see any more of it. He had always wondered where his father got the money to buy alcohol from, but now he wished he didn't know.

Jack kept running. He could still remember the time, before all this crap, when Emma was alive and his father had a steady job as a banker. Bruce had been Jack's hero and Jack couldn't imagine life any different. Of course, that was before Jack took Emma out to the pond to go skating before the ice had fully frozen. Jack didn't know any better, though. He was just a kid! He was nearly nine and Emma was six.

Jack tried to save her, he really did, but Bruce told him he didn't try hard enough. And Jack believed Bruce because his dad was still his hero, even though that morning before the accident would be the last time Bruce would ever hug him or give him a warm smile. Jack, looking back at the memory of his father years later, could finally pick up on the familiar cold glare that he had missed at the time because Young Jack thought his dad would eventually forgive him. Young Jack thought his father loved him. Older Jack realized how fleeting of a dream that really was.

Jack ran up to his room, ignoring the tears that were streaming down his face, and curled up in his bed. A half hour later, he heard his father slam the front door shut, signaling his inevitable arrival.

Jack didn't move, and his father didn't bother calling him downstairs, for once, demanding why Jack had neglected to make dinner for him.

_Maybe Bruce is tired, _Jack thought. _Maybe he's tired of this life too. _

_Maybe he won't try and hurt me anymore._

_I don't want to be hurt anymore._

* * *

**Okay so hopefully that was a good chapter. Hopefully we don't have such a long gap again.**

**Reviews!**

**Guest: Thank you!**

**thejellyfish99: Wow thank you! I'm so glad you think that highly of this story!**

**BloodBlossom88: I COMPLETELY forgot it was father's day when I posted that. Oh gosh, the irony...**

**thedreamtheives: Thank you! I did try and add in elements from the movie. After all, it was such a great movie.**

**KodiakWolfe13: YAY I LIKE LOVE! ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S TO A STORY! Oh gosh, but I really despise actual love stories. I'm sorry, I'm just not a sappy person.**

**cutepuppy21: thanks and here you go!**

**Delph1762: Oh gosh then it was destiny that you met this fic!**

**Guest: I'm so sorry about the wait! I really am!**

**it-all-starts-somewhere: Poor Jack indeed.**


	6. Chapter 6: Memories

**No, it wasn't writer's block this time. I can't even begin to explain what a horribly stressful summer this has been. It's been unreal. I'm doing less schoolwork now, during the school year, than I was over the summer. It's fucked up I tell you.**

**Anyways, I know I said this on my other fic but if you don't read that then here it is: On my profile I have the progress of all of my fics, this one included. If there's some sort of gap or if you're just anxious for the next chapter, you can go check out where I'm at in the writing of the story or why the heck I'm not posting.**

**That is all.**

* * *

"Family: One of the most important bonds people make," the art teacher explained. Jack's stomach squirmed a little bit.

She gave the class a small smile before continuing, "You all may be too young to understand this now, but you'll get it someday. You see, no matter how many friends or boyfriends you go through in life, the one permanent thing that's with you through all those tearful breakup nights or those happy job acceptances is your family. Family is permanent."

Jack's eyes drifted down to his lap. He had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, he loved his Dad and he was sure that one day Bruce would wake up and realize all the pain he'd caused on Jack and stop hurting him because Bruce loved Jack. Jack was sure of it. Jack was positive Bruce didn't mean anything when he hit Jack or swore at him. Bruce was just going through a rough time, a phase, and Jack was sure he would come out of it sooner or later.

On the other hand, Jack was tired of it all. Jack didn't want to live a life of hiding bruises or being treated like less than nothing all the time. He wished, more than anything, he could have a normal life with a normal family who wouldn't hit him because they knew that you should never hit the people you love.

_But of course, _Jack thought to himself, _MAYBE he wouldn't have to hit you if you weren't such a screw up all the time!_

Jack frowned and retorted with, _Oh_,_ fuck you!_

He sighed and slapped his hand to his forehead. Wasn't he trying to be a normal kid and blend in with all the other normal kids? He couldn't do that if he was talking to himself.

His teacher's projected voice brought him back to reality. "For your next projects I want you to draw what family means to you. I will give you no more instructions other than that and your availible supplies can be found on the front table. Good luck!"

Jack waited until everyone else had gone up to get their supplies before he went up to get his. He saw that there were no more erasers which was okay because he didn't need one anyways. There were no more "good" charcoal pencils either. He was okay with too. He didn't mind a broken pencil. After all, he wouldn't want to take a "good" pencil if that meant someone else wouldn't get one. He didn't want to get in the way of other people's art performance. He wasn't that important.

He sat down and began sketching. His wrist gracefully flew around the paper with such perfection it made even the broken pencil seem beautiful. He didn't think about what he was drawing but he didn't necessarily have to. He knew exactly what a family was to him: it was a fleeting dream. It was something that he tasted as a child, but then flew just out of his reach. No matter how high he jumped, he could never touch it.

"Jack," came a gasping voice behind him. "My, this is going to be an incredible piece! Is that your father?"

Jack stared down at his paper. His paper roughly outlined one of Jack's most cherished memories, or the Picnic Day. That's what Jack dubbed it as. It was almost as if he needed to name it or else he would forget it.

J_ack was five on that bright and sunny day. It was almost laughable how perfect the weather was. It was warm, and the sun beams shining down through the bright blue cloudless ozone kissed everyone's skin, warming the family even more, but not heating them to the point to where they were uncomfortable._

_The wind ruffled Jack's stark white hair as he lay down on his stomach, watching his mother and Emma chase butterflies around the field. They had just finished their sandwiches, and now Jack was slightly bored._

_His Dad, seeing this, ruffled Jack's unruly hair and asked enthusiastically, "You wanna fly a kite?"_

_The small child looked up at his father. The sun made his tan skin and neat brown hair almost look as if they were glowing on his neatly shaven face. Jack frowned, his big blue eyes drooping slightly, and responded with a high pitch voice, "But I don't know how!"_

_Jack's Dad laughed. He had the perfect laugh according to Jack. It was strong, but yet still managed to sound musical like bells._

_"I can teach you!" Jack's Dad exclaimed. "Don't worry, it's not hard! C'mon, son, let's go have fun!"_

_Five year old Jack liked having fun. In fact, he liked it a _lot_. So he jumped up enthusiastically and dashed into the open field, his father not too far behind him. He stopped running once he got to a nice, grassy spot in the field he liked. His Dad beamed down at his son for "picking out such an excellent place to fly a kite!" before setting down the flimsy plastic container._

_Jack watched intently as his father opened the clear bag and carefully slid out the light blue kite. His Dad unrolled some of the thread off the the spool and then, with one last mischievous grin at Jack, threw the kite in the air where the gentle breeze wrapped its arm around it and brought it higher in the sky. _

_Jack clapped two pale hands together as he jumped up and down, joyous laughter bright on his face. He couldn't believe it! His father was truly magical because no matter how many times young Jack tried, which was too many to count, _he _certainly couldn't fly like this kite. _

_He was so entranced watching the kite that he didn't notice his father sneaking up behind him until he felt a strong, powerful hand scoop him up and put him on a set of high, firm shoulders. Jack stretched his hands out beside him as his father ran with the kite following close behind. Jack closed his eyes. He was certain this is what the kite felt like when it was up in the air. _

_In that moment, he didn't just question if his father was magical or not; he knew in his heart that his Dad must have been an angel or something. His Dad made him fly, and Jack loved it._

"Jack?"

He glanced up at his teacher and sighed, wishing more than anything he could go back to that moment and ask his Dad one question. "It's from when I was little," he explained quietly. "My Dad showed me how to fly a kite."

"Why did you chose this memory?" his teacher asked.

Jack shrugged. He knew his teacher wasn't trying to be nosy, she was just curious. He quite liked her. She had platinum blond hair that was spiked up with purple tips. She had a tattoo of a butterfly on her left wrist that she had confidentially told Jack it was to hide a rather ugly jagged scar she got in a motorcycle accident. And, ironically enough, her name was Mrs. Hue.

"It just came to me," Jack answered simply, not ready to pour out his entire life's story to a woman who probably couldn't care less. Though Jack was closer to her than, well, _anyone_, he still understood he was probably nothing more than another student to her.

She gave him a soft smile, knowing that Jack was hiding something but being nice enough not to push any further. "Jack, I can already tell this is going to be a beautiful work of true art."

Jack forced a smile as he gazed at his rough sketch. It showed the beginnings of what was going to be a small boy with unruly hair giving a wide-eyed smile on top of a strong, fit man's shoulders. The boy's arms were spread out as if they were caught between trying to fly and trying to touch the sky. The father held the boy'd tiny waist with one arm and with the other held a trailing kite. He was gazing off the frame of the picture, probably at the boy's mother. Everything about the picture screamed innocence and pure fun, except for the lower right hand part of the paper. That part was blank.

Jack knew what he was going to draw there. He didn't want to draw anything there, but he _had _to draw something in there. The meaning of the picture wouldn't be complete without it.

LINEBREAK

Jack was in the hallway walking towards the library, as per usual. It was lunch time and Jack wanted, more than anything, to sit on one of the big comfy chairs in the library and get some studying done. He had a vocabulary test tomorrow in English that he needed to study for.

Jack pushed through the crowded hallway when someone grabbed his arm. He spun around to see Ana, who shouted over the voices, "Jack! Hey, Jack, where you going? The lunchroom is this way!"

"Library," he shrugged off her thin arm.

"Why?" she questioned, following him as he began walking away from her.

He shrugged. "It's where I always go during lunch. I like to get work done before I go home."

"Oh," she looked down. "Well, if you want, you should sit with us! I mean, you ARE part of the team and all."

"No!" he exclaimed abruptly. Jack's eyes widened as hurt flashed over her face. He realized he may have been to quick to respond, so he tried again, "No, thank you. I would, but I have a vocab test that I haven't started studying for and I don't wanna fail."

Her expression softened with Jack's more socially acceptable rejection. "That's okay, Jack. I'll see you after school."

"Yeah," he agreed uncomfortably. "Bye," he mumbled as he turned around and headed for the Library.

As he neared the large set of brown wooden double doors, a slim hand softly grasped his blue hoodie. Jack suppressed a scream as he whirled around to see who the foreign hand belonged to. He had to suppress yet _another _scream when he saw the gaunt face of his intruder.

"P-Pitch," Jack shuddered. His mouth was dry and he suddenly felt very faint. He tightened the fists of his now clammy hands and looked anywhere but into the cold, black eyes of his classmate.

"Jack."

* * *

**But really, I'm so goddamn sorry. Once again, I really am. Writing, whether it's music or literature, is my life (that and sports but whatever) so to not be able to do these things I enjoy doing kills. So just know that I was suffering with the lack of writing just as much as you were.**

**Anyways, reviews!**

**thejellyfish99: Yeah, this isn't a very happy fanfic.**

**BloodBlossom88: It's funny because I'm OBSESSED with fics where Bunny is super protective of Jack but this fic is the total opposite of that...huh...**

**KodiakWolfe13: I swear we're like the same person. Were we separated at birth or something?**

**Josephine Blaze: Is her name Emma in the movie or did the ROTG fans just make that up?**

**cutepuppy21: Ikr Pitck is one bad cookie.**

**KodiakWolfe13: I'M SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME! *gives a cupcake as a peace offering***

**bibbledoo: Haha he really should.**


	7. Chapter 7: Passed Out

Pitch cocked his head to the side curiously. "Jack! Where are you off to?"

"Art," Jack barely whispered, assuring himself that Pitch didn't take art. "I need to finish...something."

"Hmm? Oh, that's nice," Pitch said in a half-assed tone. It was doubtful he was really listening to Jack, but neither party cared enough to say that much. "You know, we should really hang out sometime. I'm busy on Friday, but Saturday I'm free."

"Oh, uh, I-I have something on Saturday," Jack stuttered nervously, not-so-nonchalantly jamming his shaking fingers in his pockets.

Pitch's' cold eyes flickered to Jack's now concealed hands and smirked ever so subtly. "Hmm, what a shame. I was really looking forward to hanging out with you this weekend. You look like you could use a couple hour to just...relax. Not worry about anything. You know how stressful it is in this day and age, right?"

Jack barely managed to squeak out a clipped, "yes," in agreement through his trembling form. He wished Pitch would just leave him alone.

Unfortunately, Pitch and his posh mouth kept rambling on. "Yes, well, unfortunately I have to go to a business dinner with my father and a man who works for him. I do wish I could skip, but you know how these things are! Fortunately, the man we're meeting is a riot. What's his name now...Bruce is it? Bruce Frost? He's the _nicest_ guy. Really, just the best. Say, you wouldn't happen to be related to him, would you?"

Jack froze. It was as if his entire world, the one he'd been trying so hard to protect for all these years, was crashing down on him. Jack Frost knew that Pitch already knew the answer to that question. He _knew_ it. He also knew that Pitch knew a lot more about Bruce than the innocent front he put onto the world. Between his tone of voice and his word choice, Pitch was making it horribly obvious.

He took a calming breath and replied monotone, "He's my father."

A sadistic smile appeared on the British teen's face as he patted Jack on the shoulder, who flinched, and said softly, "Funny, he's never mentioned you. Well, I'm sure he's just the greatest father. You're lucky to have such a caring person in your life."

Jack tried to take in a breath of air, but found he couldn't. His airway was completely blocked off, even though he didn't feel any pressure on it. He tried turning his head, but all he saw was black.

Far away he heard someone call his name, but before he could respond...

LINEBREAK

"Hey, he's waking up," a soft voice came from a distance.

"What?" Jack struggled to open his eyes.

"Hey, can you hear me?" the face of Ana hovered over him.

Yes, Jack could hear her. He could hear her loud and clear. But his brain wasn't working correctly, he didn't know why, so the only answer he could respond with was, "What?"

"Someone go get the nurse," she ordered to a boy towering over her crouched form.

The boy, whom Jack ascertained was Nick, verbalized a short, "On it," before sprinting off down the hall.

Jack blinked once before muttering a dumb, "What?" (A/N: When I pass out this is what happens so idk how it is to other people, but I swear to god I'm not just winging this)

"Is the bloody kid okay?" Aster asked harshly. "I'm missing environmental science for this."

"Aster! Calm down. At least _try _to act concerned here!" Ana scolded.

"Hey, if I wasn't concerned I wouldn't have gotten you guys in the first place," Aster defended.

"Hahaha, what?" Jack giggled as he tried to shake away the last of the bright spots in his vision. Why did his head feel funny? Oh right, his body was still leveling out its oxygen levels after passing out from his panic attack with Pitch.

"Oh my god, he's completely brainless," Aster groaned.

Anna ignored him and turned to Jack, "We found you out here in the middle of the hallway, Jack. Well really, Aster found you, but that's not important right now. Nick is getting the school nurse. Are you feeling okay, Jack? Does anything hurt? Did you hit your head on the way down?"

Jack blinked away the onslaught of incoming questions and responded the only way he had figured out how: "What?"

Aster facepalmed. "I'm done here," he rolled his eyes and stalked off.

Fortunately, it was at that moment the school nurse showed up with Nick with a wheelchair. Upon seeing the wheelchair, Jack sprung up, or at least _tried _to spring up, gripped the wall with such voracity that Ana and Nick exchanged a worried glance.

"What? No!" Jack shook his head. With a clearer head, he struggled out, "I'm fine!"

"Jack, just get in the wheelchair," the nurse begged.

Jack shook his head. Wheelchairs attracted attention and, for Jack Frost, attention was a bad thing. _Always _a bad thing. If he was home and getting attention, it meant his father was beating him. If he was in school and getting attention, it meant he was being ridiculed by his classmates, his peers. Hell, if he was in his _room _and getting attention it meant he was attacking himself for being such a screw-up all the time. There was no place where attention was good for Jack Frost.

"Fine," the nurse submitted. After all, she could not legally force him to do anything he wasn't comfortable with if he wasn't in a life-or-death situation. "Just at least push it down the hallway to prove you can get to my office on your own. You can put your binders on it if you want."

Such compromises had to be made, Jack realized, if he was going to stay off the wheelchair. Plus, he could really use the extra support to help him walk without doing something stupid like tripping on air and eating dirt. (A/N: It happens to the best of us.)

LINEBREAK

_Another day down, _thought Jack as he left the school and into the parking lot. According to Aster's text, he was to meet the gang by the sleigh as usual. He casually sauntered over to the parking lot, effortlessly weaving in and out of the hoards of people clogging up the grassy area outside the brick building. He was, oddly enough, excited for this day with the guardians. He was just excited to get away from reality, which had been slapping him across the face more this past week than he was used to.

That excitement was short lived, however, when the sweet echoing voice of his father called out, "Jack!"

"Bru-Dad?" Jack turned around in panic to see the sunglassed face of his once prodigal father. He almost slipped, and he berated himself for doing so. He didn't consider Bruce his dad, not really anymore, but he still treated him as such in his blinding hope that one day he would have a real dad again. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Making sure you were okay, of course." He pulled Jack into a hug that made him want to scream. "The school nurse called and told me you passed out today. I thought I'd pick you up from school since you're not feeling too good."

It was uncanny for the alcoholic to be in a public setting, sober, or being seen spending "quality time" with his kid. A combination of the three? Unheard of. Jack was confused until he was squashed into the "hug" and smelled a faint, concealed trace of weed on his father. Honestly, Jack couldn't say he was surprised.

"Jack, who's this?" came the voice of Ana from behind him.

Jack wriggled his way out of Bruce's strong, but flabby arms and turned around, pale faced and shaking horribly, to meet the faces of the gang. "Guys, this is my father. D-Dad, these are my...friends." Jack grimaced at the last bit. Both he and his father knew Jack Frost didn't have any friends, but "acquaintances" or "people-I-am-forced-to-attend-school-with" didn't seem very appropriate to say.

Bruce stepped forward and shook the hands of each of his teammates. "Well, it seems like you've found yourself a fine bunch of people to hang out with, Jackie." Addressing Aster, Nick, Sandy, and Ana he warmly smiled, "It's nice to meet all of you."

Jack almost threw up.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Frost!" Ana and Aster politely replied, while Sandy gave a small, shy wave and Nick exclaimed, "Ah, is so nice to meet a member of Jack's family, yes?"

Bruce gave a lighthearted laugh before turning back to his son with such a _real _smile that, for a split second, Jack was almost convinced his Dad's phase was over and he loved his son again. That was, until he tilted his head downwards and Jack saw the sadistic gleam in his eyes from under the sunglasses. "You ready to go?"

"Oh, uh, actually we have a community service project we're working on today. Sorry, Dad," Jack muttered, looking very interested in the rough pavement.

His father gave him a look that plainly said, _'I did not drive all the way out here to be back talked by _you, _boy, so get in the damn car before I beat you up right here in front of all your new "friends"'_

"Jack, why don't you call it off today," Ana said. "We can handle it. You're obviously not feeling too good."

"No, I'm feeling fine-"

"Jack," came his father's voice that Jack could tell was struggling to remain kind. Jack gulped. "I don't want you to get sick or anything. Why don't you come home with me and you can lay low today."

Sensing the dangerous edge in his tone, Jack submitted, "O-okay," and followed his dad into their car.

As soon as Jack climbed into the passenger's seat of the black pickup truck and shut the door, the now completely normal gravely tone of Bruce came back. "Don't you ever make me come do this shit again, boy."

Jack's trembling worsened. "But I didn't make you do anything!"

Bruce's reaction was immediate. "Don't make shit up, boy!" he yelled as he slapped Jack across the face. "If it wasn't for your weakness, I could be home right now with an ice cold beer in my hands! Instead I'm wasting my time picking your sorry ass up from school."

Jack shivered. He couldn't remember the last time he was in a car with Bruce, and it terrified him. He didn't even bother trying to stick up for himself because Bruce was right; Bruce was always right. If Jack wasn't so weak and pathetic and _stupid _then his father wouldn't have to pick him up from school. So instead, Jack just murmured out a weak, "I'm sorry."

"Shut the fuck up," Bruce hostility replied as he started the engine of the car and sped away. Jack leaned his burning cheek up against the cool window and looked outside. He half-wished his friends-if he could even call them that-saw what went on inside of the car windows so they could run back and free him from this mess. But, of course, the only person he saw through the window was the smiling face of a tall, pale boy with high cheekbones and short black hair: Pitch.

They made eye-contact, and Jack saw that Pitch could hardly contain his laughter, his _glee _at seeing the broken form of the white-haired teen get slapped by his father. Pitch gave a slight wave to Jack before breaking down in fits of uncontrollable giggles as the black car sped out of the school parking lot and towards a house of nightmares.

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**Fun Fact: I wasn't going to have all these Pitch-Danny interactions until much, much later in the fanfiction, but I decided to start them earlier in order to add some drama to this. I mean, I'm not really a fan of dullness.**

**Reviews!**

**bibbledoo: On it!**

**TheAmazingBookWorm: Other than the fact that you, my friend, are truly amazing, euhhhhh sorry about that. Pitch is deffs going to be a MUCH bigger character in this than I intended.**

**BloodBlossom88: Hahaha work of art HHAHAHA I GET IT! *dies of laughter* *turns into a ghost* BEWARE! I AM THE LAUGHTER GHOST, BRINGER OF ALL THINGS GIGGLING AND ROUND! Oh god, I swear I'm not high right now.**

**Nikki Pond: Thank you so much for liking my fanfiction, the first M-Rated one you've read! I actually took your advice and started writing down all my little ideas for this story and I do have to say, it's helped LOADS! Thank you! ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ADDING ME TO YOUR COMMUNITY! It seriously means a lot!**

**KodiakWolfe13: I LIKE CUPPYCAKES! Oh I'm kinda short for my age. All the Frosh (Freshmen) make fun of me and call me "One of them!" which I'm like, "Oh helll naw, broskis," and yeah. But I'm assuming you're short? If so we're definitely related.**


	8. Chapter 8: Paul's Hardware

**WARNING: The first half of this chapter is incredibly dark. Honestly I have no idea why the heck it's this dark but, ya know, shit happens.  
**

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They pulled into the bumpy driveway of an old house with overgrown weeds as grass and chipping paint on the walls. Neither party said a word, and Jack sat there paralyzed in fear. He was afraid, so very afraid, that the slightest movement would be the wrong movement, and his father would go into a fit of rage and beat him to a pulp right there in the car. So he sat there hugging his backpack until Bruce growled, "Get out of the damn car."

Jack stifled a whimper and scurried out of the beat up pick-up truck. He ran into the house and was on his way up to his room when the front door slammed and Bruce's thundering voice hollered, "Now don't go running off! Get the fuck down here you fucking shit!"

Jack froze, his eyes wide. His father was mad-no, furious. Yes, his father was furious at everything he had to endure from Jack that day. Why did Jack have to be such a bother? He pondered this question as he slumped downstairs and stood, shoulders hunched and head pointedly rotated to the floor, across the room from his father.

"I'm sorry," Jack muttered, his voice cracking. It had been a while since he was so terrified of his father. Though it was true his father was cruel when he was drunk, he was even worse when he was sober. His head was clearer and, because of the addiction, his temper just increased tenfold.

"Don't just come down here and apologize from your stupid-ass face to me. Look, I can see it in your eyes, you think you deserved me picking you up from school, didn't you? You think you, Jack the goddamn Nobody, deserved me to pick you up and take care of you? Well, _do you?_"

"N-no sir," Jack mumbled, shaking.

Bruce crossed his meaty arms and nodded his head in affirmation. "Damn straight you don't! You don't deserve anything! I hate you. I hate you so fucking much, boy, you're nothing more than a waste of my precious time. You know all the fucking things I could be doing right now than picking you up from school? Lots of things. Instead, I had to pick your weak-ass self up from school. I have a job to this family, boy! I have to provide for us. _Us._ And you seem to think that is some kind of joke?"

"I don't, sir."

"Well you obviously do, boy, or else you wouldn't be thinking of passing out in the middle of the hallway like a weak son-of-a-bitch and making me pick you up instead of being self-sufficient like every other fucking person in this fucking world! There's people in other countries dying, and here you're whining about your fucking head or whatever the hell made you faint like a stupid bitch! Are you a stupid bitch, Jack?"

"No?"

He quirked a bushy eyebrow. "No? You said no?"

"I-I-"

"You said no, but you said it like a question, you shithead. You don't know, do you? Well let me answer it for you: You are! You're the worst, boy, the fucking worst. And I don't think you deserve to be standing there with that stupid smirk on your face like you always do whenever I see you. Come over here so I can wipe that stupid smile off of your goddamn face!"

Jack didn't move. He was petrified. But that only made Bruce angrier. "I said, COME HERE! COME HERE YOU STUPID SHIT!"

When Jack made no further movement, a growl-like sound escaped from Bruce's mouth. He charged, swinging his meaty-fists in such an ape-like fashion, Jack wondered if that moment was even real. Suddenly, Bruce wasn't the man Jack had always known him as; he metamorphosed into some creature completely incapable of reason, and it was all Jack could do to swing his arms up to his face in time before one of those hands clawed at it. The hand wrapped around Jack's cowering figure like a talon and dragged him over to a wall where the creature that had once been Jack's father beat down on him more gruesomely than ever before. Not a single inch of Jack's body was spared from the brutal kicks and punches issued by Bruce, and Jack nearly slipped into the unconscious several times.

Seconds felt like hours, and centuries later Bruce gave the impression his adrenaline rush was over and he stalked into the kitchen. Jack, who couldn't even move a finger, made no effort to get up and instead watched a sticky red substance flow onto the wood floor. He thought about how hard that would be to clean up later after it dried, and wondered if it was even worth trying to get the blood out of the floor completely since this was only going to happen again.

That realization, the realization that this abusive cycle would go on for as long as Bruce wanted, hit Jack who, in reaction, started to cry. Tears rolled down his face and stung his wounds. He tried to be silent, he really did, but the hysterics eventually came as the pain of every past and future beating toppled over him like a tsunami crashing onto a small village. Bruce heard it and shouted something, but Jack was too far gone at that point. He was sobbing and hyperventilating and wondering what he could have possibly done to deserve this only to remember everything that was his fault which just made him want to be hurt more and harder and worse but at the same time made him want to stop all the hurt and the pain and the blame, the fucking blame, that he carried with him over every little detail of his life.

Bruce was fuming again and grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer in another fit of rage. He sprinted into the room and slashed blindly at Jack, catching him in the chest. Jack stopped crying just long enough to look at his chest in shock before passing out.

LINEBREAK

Jack sat numbly in the back of the sleigh. Conversation milled around him, but he could hardly concentrate on a single sentence of it. Fact was, Jack didn't know what to think. His mind was racing, yet it was blank. He waltzed around school today as if in a dream, with his hood up and face down. No one took notice of his black and blue face, or if they did notice they didn't care enough to say anything. For this, Jack was thankful.

His father had never pulled a knife on him before. Sure, he swung his fists and kicked his feet, but a knife? At least before Jack could hope that there was some sort of love still hidden behind layers of hate, but a knife severed all of those hopes. A knife meant Jack was really hated, but more than that: despised.

_Maybe, _Jack thought to himself, _Maybe it's better if I just...if I'm gone..._

"Hey Jack!" chirped a lively voice from in front of him. Ana turned around, and Jack remembered to turn his head so it seemed like he was looking out of the window. He didn't want her to see any of his bruises.

"Wow," she giggled. "You certainly are quiet today! I'm sorry you didn't get to see the place we picked out to hold the holiday fair at, but trust me when I say this is going to be the best year yet! You know the local ice rink? It's in there. We're using the ice rink as a public skate, and then we're using the upper, insulated level as an activity center. And guess what? The owner was so flattered we asked him about his rink he's giving us the whole thing for free! Isn't that wonderful, Jack?"

Jack, who had been chewing on his lip the entire time, nodded dully. "That's great, Tooth," he said hardly over a whisper.

"I know, right?" she exclaimed. "And it'll only get better from there! The only thing I worry about is we don't know if he'll have enough rental skates for everyone. I mean, most of these kids won't have ice skates of their own. A lot of them come from broken homes or poverty houses where this is the only Christmas gift they'll be receiving. Isn't that awful?"

"I can't imagine," Jack nearly spat out. He hadn't received a Christmas gift since he was a kid. Since his father loved him...

"The orphanage is bringing their kids. They always do," she went on, oblivious to Jack's shattered state of mind. "And you know what? Those kids are always the happiest at these events. Watching them, well it makes all the hard work worth it."

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. Some of those kids, Jack realized, would be just like him. They would be the unspoken survivors of the same abuse Jack himself endured. The only difference was those kids were out of those situations while Jack was still in it. But similarities-the terrifying fear of never being loved-was what made the children and Jack nearly the same._  
_

"They need us," Jack finally responded to Ana, knowing he had to protect what little innocence the children had left. "Those kids do."

"Yeah, they do," she agreed.

"Okay, we're here!" Nick's voice boomed over the teens. "We go get supplies and then we bring them to my basement for organization."

Jack finally took in what was outside of the window. Though his head was facing that general direction for the duration of the trip, he couldn't process so much as a blade of grass. Anytime he looked anywhere he saw the faintest glint of a knife swipe through his line of vision, so he looked everywhere yet nowhere. He tried to see, but he was too afraid to. But this time he managed to find the huge name of a hardware store written in fancy red scrawl. "Paul's Hardware," it read. Jack nearly snorted. What a stupid name.

"Everyone out," Aster ordered. "I have the list of supplies we need, so let's go!"

Jack ducked his head as he climbed out of the red vehicle and followed his peers out and into the dully colored store. He kept his head down, hood up, and hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He couldn't believe he'd gotten away with no one seeing him like this for so long. Then again, it's not like anyone really cared enough about him to notice any differences.

They got into the store and Aster read out the list of things they needed to buy, though it's not like Jack took in a single word, before they moved around the store, from isle to isle, searching for the perfect resources. Jack, on the other hand, lingered in the back of the group, completely invisible to everyone.

Well, everyone except Aster who, with increasing irritation, exclaimed, "Goddamnit, Jack! If you're going to be a part of this group, at least _pretend _like you give a crap and help us!"

The lighthearted attitude from the group all but dissipated as each head turned, one by one, to look at the small, thin boy in the back, who shrugged in response.

That shrug, though a small gesture, was enough to send Aster over the edge. "Look, not everyone is as fortunate as us! I don't know if you knew this, but some kids don't have the same things as other kids, and all we want to do is give them one day where they can have hope in their future. I want to give them one day, one freaking day, where they can get the hope they need so they can imagine themselves like all the other kids they go to school with: happy and loved. So get your head out of your ass and freaking help us instead of being usual self-centered idiot you are!"

Jack nodded numbly; that was it. He didn't utter a single word in defense of himself because, of course, Aster was right just like his father was right and everyone else in the Universe was right. Why would Jack dare try and defend himself against _that _logic?

"Jack? Are you alright?" Tooth questioned

Jack nodded again, head still to the floor, so no one saw his face. That is, nobody who was _taller _than him saw his face. Jack, however, didn't realize this until a light hand was placed on his shoulder. Jack flinched and looked up to meet the intense but soft golden-brown eyes of the mute member of the group. The messages, the wise knowledge of Sandy, that he conveyed through a single stare was enough to send shivers down Jack's spine.

As Jack struggled to keep himself together under Sandy's stare, voices ahead of him gasped.

"Jack!" Ana's hands flew up to her mouth.

"Oh shit," Aster's eyes doubled in size.

"Jack! Why you not tell us?" North asked, clearly upset.

"I'm sorry," Jack lowered his gaze back to the floor.

"Jack," a strong, male voice spoke from in front of him. Jack looked up again to see the tall Australian teen standing directly in front of him. "Who did this to you?"

Jack stuttered out a weak, "I-I fell."

"Jack, please, we're not stupid you know," Aster rolled his eyes. "What happened?"

"I fell!" Jack exclaimed, stronger. Tears began collecting at the bottom of his eyes. "I tripped and fell! It was my fault!"

"Jack," pleaded Tooth. "Tell us what really happened."

"I did!" countered Jack. "I did just tell you! It was my fault! _Mine_! No one else is to blame but me!"

"Jack..." Ana's eyes misted at Jack's distress.

"No," Jack's voice cracked. He opened his mouth to say more, but his feet responded before his voice could and he found himself sprinting out of the fancy self-opening doors, through the parking lot, and towards town. He didn't stop sprinting until he was wheezing and collapsed from his potentially broken rib, and even then he picked himself up and jogged towards his home. Or really, whatever he could call a home.

* * *

**Well this was oddly fun to write. Huh...**

**Review:**

**Poohbearmorris: Thank you! I do love my drama.**

**KodiakWolfe13: I do not want to mess with you then! Haha, yeah I'm kinda addicted to your stories. Like, they're a drug for me. Except I don't always get to read them every day which saddens me.**

**BloodBlossom88: Shhhh s'all good. I'M TOTALLY SANE, GUYS.**

**amayablack: Ohhh Sandy! You know, I'm glad you appreciate Sandy. His character is so awesome. He's actually going to have a big part in this all, so stay tuned!**

**cutepuppy21: Ikr?**

**Nikki Pond: I love angst too! It helps that I'm a hormonal, angsty teen waiting for college. Yeah, that bit really helps...Fainting in school isn't that bad. The worst thing that happens is the nurse tries to stuff you in a wheelchair but by now she knows I don't DO that sort of thing so she doesn't even bother bringing it. Don't worry, I LOVE your rambles! I also really like how you appreciate how I write this despite the lack of continuous updates. It means a lot! Thank you for your review!**

**bibbledoo: Yes! You can kill Pitch! You can kill him and then kill his ghost form too!**

**thejellyfish99: Yeah, this story is pretty sad. Unfortunately, it will only get worse before it gets better.**

**bibliophelea: Dude, you're fucking awesome. (I had to get that out.) Thank you!**

**KianVixenheim: I DO TOO! Ah, it's terrible but at the same time I'm like, "Give me more!"**


	9. Chapter 9: Ugly Truths

**Hi guys! So this chapter is a bit shorter than my other chapters because I actually had to split it up into two different chapters. The next scene was superrr long so it's now in the next chapter. That's kinda good, though, because now I have part of the next chapter written!**

**So this is almost like a filler chapter. I think it wouldn't be fitting to shove Jack into another huge thing right away when he's still calming down from the event with Bruce, so I'm sorry if this seems kinda boring! Though, you _do _start to get some insight on Jack's family before he was younger. This won't be the last of those truths either. Enjoy!  
**

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Jack's blue eyes gazed unseeing into the lake. The trees around him enclosed him, protecting Jack from the ugly truths that lay outside. He heard birds chirping softly in the distance. Their singsong voices comforted him as he sat, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth on a soft bit of dirt.

Blocked by the tall trees surrounding the lake was the yellow setting sun. Though he could not see the glowing orb, he could see the soft pinks and oranges in the sky, accented by a few cirrus clouds lackadaisically floating through the atmosphere. The silky hues of the sky helped to calm his mind, and he breathed out, exhaling all his stress and anxiety from the events leading up to this moment. He closed his eyes, his mind now like a sheet of printer paper, and began to think.

He thought back to his childhood, straining his mind to pick up the dirty, repressed memories he held of the times when his family was whole. He tried to connect the memories of his father now with the ones of him when Jack was five or six to see if he could find any similarities between the two people. Jack knew it wasn't a good idea. Why would he ever want to taint the few good memories he had of Bruce? But it had to be done. He needed to know, so desperately, _why _Bruce was this way.

Jack closed his eyes and focused on one particular time when he was six. His father, though good-natured, sometimes had the slightest temper problem. Though he tried to hide it around the kids, as in Jack and Emma, he sometimes let it show to his wife, Clara. On that one, horrible night, Jack was trying to go to sleep. He remembered he couldn't sleep because of the muffled yelling coming from downstairs in the kitchen. His mom sounded upset though, that was for sure, and his father sounded angry. Now Jack was familiar with that type of anger, but back then he remembered being scared. Then, as the voices rose to a new level, a slapping sound rang out throughout the house. Suddenly there was silence, and that deafening silence was almost more terrifying than the angry voices from just seconds before.

Jack remembered wanting to run down and see if everything was okay, but just when he opened his bedroom door he heard his mother burst into a fit of delayed sobs. His father, Jack assumed, pulled her into a close hug because he heard a series of shushes and comforting murmurs such as "there, there," and "it's not your fault," coming from Bruce. Jack remembered thinking everything was okay so he went back into his room and fell asleep.

The only lasting sign of any altercation the next morning was his mother's wavering smile and a little red bruise on her cheek.

LINEBREAK

"Jack!"

"Oh god," Jack muttered under his breath. Slamming his locker shut, he clutched his neat chemistry binder tight and hurried down the hallway, _away_ from the sound of Ana's voice.

The guardians had been trying to talk to him all day. He even contemplated skipping his study hall period, but when it came down to it he ended up going. He had never skipped a class before in his life. He knew that if his father got a call from the school about a missing student Bruce would be pissed and end up hunting that missing student down himself to beat him up. So Jack ended up going to the cove and shoving cheep headphones in his ears and blocking out Nick's prodding finger poking at his shoulder in a fruitless attempt to get his attention, and Sandy's knowing stares from across the table. After a while they gave up anyways, and Jack could continue his homework in peace.

"Jack please!"

"Nopenopenope," Jack ran through the masses of happy teens and bolted into the chemistry room, earning odd looks from his classmates. Avoiding eye contact with all of them, he turned to his usual desk in the corner and gently placed his binder, textbook, and pencil case down equidistant from each other. Jack's favorite subject, besides art, was easily chemistry. Not only was he the top student in his honors chemistry class, but his teacher had already confided how excited she was to recommend him for AP chemistry next year. He confided back to her that AP chem would be the first class he would sign up for.

He wasn't sure why he liked chemistry so much, but all he _did _know was that atoms were beautiful. The multitude of ways molecules could be shaped reminded him of snowflakes, and Jack _loved _snow. It was his favorite season. Everything was white, to the dismay of Pitch Black who had voiced, an innumerable amount of times, his hatred for snow and his love of rain. The snow sparkled in the daytime and the Christmas lights glittered in the nighttime, mimicking the tiny flecks of stars pressed against the black sky overhead.

And every time Jack glanced at a cluster of atoms or molecules, all pressed together through their tight bonds, he pictured a winter wonderland. Instead of atoms they were piles of snow pressed against the side of the road. Jack remembered digging tunnels in that snow when he was younger with his sister. He remembered glancing up once and seeing his mother smiling from the window in the kitchen as she washed the remnants of food from the plates they used for lunch. He remembered waving at her, and gazing in wonder as tiny ice-crystals flew off his blue mittens before blending back in with their brothers and sisters on the ground.

His mother waved back then, and he giggled, giddy from her attention, before answering the whines of Emma as a tunnel collapsed through her not-so delicate fingers.

Now, ten years later, the best part about winter was that it was perfectly acceptable to wear a hoodie twenty four-seven. And winter was the only season where that rule stayed true throughout the duration of it. Jack could easily hide his scars and bruises without any question as to what the hell he was doing in a freaking sweatshirt. Jack could just live his life in peace.

The teacher, Ms. Carr, quietly passed out the tests. While most of the students groaned, Jack smiled. This was the only part of Jack's life that he felt confident in. He _knew _he was going to do well, he'd studied so hard for this, and that blissful moments under a sea of confidence was something that Jack only ever felt once in a blue moon.

LINEBREAK

Jack strolled home. It was sunny, and the cloudless sky gave the perception that it was warm out, but Jack reveled in the crisp autumn winds that blew around him. He watched as the leaves took their first tumbles off the trees on the side of the roads. If he glanced upwards he would have seen the birds flying in v-formation to the southern parts of the United States, but he was too busy kicking a pebble on the sidewalk to notice that.

He was so caught up in his little game, if you could call it that, that he didn't notice an ominous shadow loom over him until it had completed engulfed his line of vision.

"Jack, my my, I didn't know you took this rout home!" Pitch said with a drawl from behind him.

Jack whirled around and was immediately seized by a fit of anxiety. He didn't understand how Pitch could make him turn into a nervous wreck just by looking at him, but what he did comprehend was that Pitch alone with him on the side of a road was probably not the best thing in the world.

Jack blinked stupidly back, not knowing how to respond.

Pitch, sensing his anxiety, his fear, chuckled in almost a friendly manner as if to ease the tension and said, "Well Jack, you certainly are a man of few words today."

"Don't you normally drive?" Jack blurted out. That much was true; Pitch did normally drive. He had a shiny black Outie that he had no reservations about showing off around town. Supposedly Pitch's father was some millionaire who owned a large, successful construction company and bought Pitch the car for his sixteenth birthday.

"Yes, well, some moron backed into it and it's at the repair shop. My father's out of town so I'm stuck walking home until they get it fixed. It's such a bother, but I thought I was going to be walking home alone. Who knew I'll have a friend to walk with me? Well for at least part of the way. You see, I take a turn up here at Crawford Street and I know you don't turn until South Street. That's quite the walk, Jack! How long does it take to get to your house?" he asked in mock concern.

Jack bit his lip. "About fifty minutes."

His eyes lit up, "Well that's just absurd! Why doesn't your father drive you? He works locally, doesn't he? So he would be able to drive you and still make it to work on time. I know this because he does some work for my father. I've told you this, haven't I? We're meeting up with him in a couple of days. I'm so excited! He seems so nice."

At the mention of his father, Jack's stomach gave a painful jolt. He suddenly felt faint and bit nauseous again. He stumbled but caught himself just before he fell. Through his white bangs he could see a smirk of triumph cross Pitch's face.

"Ah, well, here's my turn. I'll see you tomorrow. It was really nice talking with you." With a pretend-friendly wave, Pitch turned onto his street, his dark eyes lingering hungrily on Jack for just a moment too long.

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**Thank you all for the kind reviews from the last chapter! They not only made me smile until my cheeks hurt, but they really motivated me to write the next chapter super fast for you all. So thank you!**

**Reviews:**

**Flamestar072: No, thank YOU!**

**Poohbearmorris: Don't worry, I won't stop writing this until it's complete!**

**KodiakWolfe13: I'M SORRY I JUST LOVE THE CLIFFY'S SO MUCH, OKAY? Though this chapter doesn't have a cliffy. Oh, fleas? Ew! I hope he kills them all.**

**TheAmazingBookWorm: I know, right? Such a sucky life.**

**BloodBlossom88: Shhhh EVERYTHING'S ALWAYS ALL GOOD. Haha, we can be insane-I mean, totally sane together then! Thank you!**

**AnimeliniA: When I was reading your review I was like, "Huh, that's actually a really good idea," so that's why Jack didn't go back to his house. Thanks for the idea!**

**Guest: I know, our poor baby!**

**bibliophilia: Thank you! Uh, good question. I think since Bruce was slashing kinda blindly, he didn't cut deep enough to cause SERIOUS damage. So Jack just bled out until it clotted. I really like Sandy, and since he's a pretty big listener vs talker he'll be the one to REALLY notice and understand things first.**

**bibbledoo: We should get Jack Fenton to help tear his ghost apart.**

**picklebug: I don't really have a set schedule for writing. It's more of a time/inspiration thing, but I do try and update as often as I can!**

**DWdemigod11: Awww thank you!**

**Rose: Thank you! Thank you so so much for your kind review! **


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